


Set Sail

by dedkake



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Arranged Marriage, First Time, Honeymoon, Light-Hearted, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:00:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3418514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedkake/pseuds/dedkake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Late for the porn battle.</p>
<p>Charles/Erik, arranged, honeymoon, first, lightheartedness (and space!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set Sail

**Author's Note:**

> I was so close, but so far from making it on time for the xmfc/dofp porn battle. I spent too much time imagining the backstory.

Charles pauses from his position between Erik’s thighs, holding his breath as he licks up the last of Erik’s come on his lips. Erik is completely silent, wide-eyed as he stares down at Charles. Charles can’t help it then, not with the way Erik’s blush is reddening his ears.

He laughs, the sound forcing its way out of his chest. It’s loud and uncontrollable and probably the worst thing he could do, but he can’t even bring himself to care because every loose piece of metal in the cabin is currently stuck to the bed. The smaller pieces, like the Old Earth coins and bits of machinery that Erik tinkers with, are stuck to Erik’s skin, while the bigger ones, like the desk chair, are tipped up against the bed. Their datapads have taken the hardest blow, now crumpled heaps of plastic and wire at the foot of the bed.

A soft noise escapes Erik’s lips, something that might be a curse—Charles can’t be sure because he can’t stop laughing. He _is_ sure that there is true embarrassment creeping through Erik’s mind, though, and he runs his fingers soothingly across Erik’s still trembling stomach.

“Fuck,” Erik says, more clearly this time, and squeezes Charles tightly with his thighs. The pressure is delightful, or it is until Erik twists his knee and shoves Charles sideways and down into the sheets, completely ruining Charles’ attempt to stifle his laughter.

Charles bites his lip as he watches Erik from his new angle, up the curve of his hip, across his taut stomach and heaving chest, to the flush bright on his throat. Picking at a stray nut that obstructs his view of Erik’s stomach, Charles wants to tell Erik that he’s amazing—that his power is beautiful and just as thrilling as his cock, growing soft against Charles arm—but instead, he says, “I see why your mother insisted on us taking your boat.”

Erik grunts, pushing himself up on his elbows to glower down at Charles. All it takes is a flick of his wrist for the bits and pieces of metal to vacate the bed, a display so casual it sends a shiver down Charles’ spine. “No doubt we’d be floating through space now if we’d taken yours. Your people have no sense of how to live with mutation.” Although Erik’s words are meant as insult, his voice is still rough and used and Charles finds he likes the combination.

“Yes,” he says, pulling himself up the bed to lie next to Erik and shivering at the sudden lack of warmth around his arms. “But that’s the whole idea here, isn’t it? Merging two of the most powerful families from our colonies is supposed to benefit both sides—mine with more knowledge on mutation, yours with more resources.”

“I still can’t believe the Genoshan Council agreed to take money from you,” Erik says softly, rolling out of the bed and stalking towards the window that spans the starboard side of the room. Charles is still aroused and waiting, and the sudden absence of Erik by his side makes him ache—but it’s a good ache, the kind Charles thinks he can live with. Erik has always needed time and space to think—and Charles has always been willing to give it.

With a smile, Charles closes his eyes and follows the rough course of Erik’s thoughts as he observes one of the three two-man fighters that guard their lifeboat. In the distance, Charles can see through Erik’s eyes the space colony Genosha. If he stretched, Charles would feel the minds there, or on his own colony, Tero, to port, but he doesn’t. He relaxes back into Erik’s sheets—his now, after their marriage.

The course of Erik’s mind shifts and suddenly the bed is shifting with Erik’s weight. Opening his eyes, Charles grins up at Erik above him. “I’m glad they chose you,” Erik says, leaning down over Charles, his breath warm on Charles’ face.

Humming his agreement, Charles brings his hands up to frame Erik’s hips. The Council hadn’t yet selected Erik’s betrothed when Charles and Erik had first met at the tender and incautious age of sixteen. All either boy had known was that their families hated each other and that there had to be change.

The merger had been Erik’s idea when he was a boy and had first heard that Tero was beginning to keep its mutant youth alive instead of executing them or stranding them for Genosha to pick up. His mother had latched onto the idea and fought for until it passed the Council. It’s been ten years in the planning, ten years after two hundred years of hatred and guerilla warfare between the two colonies, and Charles has trouble believing they’re here as well.

“Are you sure I’m the best choice?” he asks, tracing his fingers up over the skin of Erik’s back. “Warren has wings.”

“Stop talking about other men in my bed,” Erik murmurs, dipping his head for a kiss, one Charles gives willingly.

Grinning, Charles pushes forward one of his earliest memories of Erik, a memory of Erik flustered—aroused and offended at once—by Charles suggestion of a kiss after a game of chess. Charles had been smitten and couldn’t understand why Erik was so bogged down by the fact that he was already engaged to someone he didn’t know.

“Yes, well,” Erik growls, nipping his way across Charles’ cheek to his ear, “ _now_ I want you to fuck me, so you can finally stop complaining about the fact that I rejected you.”

Charles moans at that, winding his hands in Erik’s hair in encouragement. “I’m just worried about the light fixtures,” Charles murmurs, trying to keep his thoughts in order as Erik’s mouth moves down his neck. “If you smash all the datapads after a blowjob, what’s next?”

There’s a hint of embarrassment at the back of Erik’s mind, but it doesn’t seem to slow him down. “I bet you can’t stop yourself from projecting all the way back to Tero when I make you come,” he says, mouth wet on Charles’ collarbone. “You’re already leaking over into my mind and I haven’t even touched your cock once.”

“A tragedy of which I’m acutely aware,” Charles says, rolling his hips up against the air between them.

Erik kisses him, a quick peck, before he’s leaving the bed again. Charles makes a soft noise of protest this time, more keyed up now than he had been before, but when he opens his eyes to find Erik bent over a nearby dresser, he finds he doesn’t mind so much.

Letting his hand drift to his cock, Charles gives it a few strokes as he watches Erik rummage through the drawers. Earlier, when he’d had his lips wrapped around Erik’s dick, he hadn’t touched himself beyond the press of sheets. Now, the thought that he’s waited so long leaves him impatient and heavy in his hand.

_Come back to bed_ , he says into Erik’s mind, settling himself more comfortably against the pillows as he twists his hand around his cock.

“Stop touching yourself,” Erik says as he turns, glaring at Charles’ hand. “That’s for me.”

Charles moans and lets his hand fall away. “Hurry up, then,” he says, eyeing the lube that Erik is warming in his fingers. He wants to take Erik’s hands, to guide their fingers down Erik’s torso to his cock, his hole, stretch him open together, fuck him with their fingers until Erik is begging for it.

Erik moans brokenly before Charles realizes he’s projecting, but he can’t find it in himself to apologize. “Well?” he demands, glaring at Erik’s feet where they’re frozen on the floor.

Falling into bed, Erik growls, “Stop ordering me around or I’ll kick you out.” But there’s no bite behind his words, especially not when he finally starts to stretch himself where he kneels over Charles’ thighs.

It takes more concentration than Charles would admit to keep his hips still with Erik over him, humming at the stretch of his own fingers, and Charles is glad this time that Erik doesn’t linger, although the glow of his mind tells Charles Erik wouldn’t mind hours of attention like this. Erik runs his hands over Charles’ cock briefly—too briefly—before he lets himself sink down onto it, one hand bracing himself on the bed, the other digging into Charles’ hip to keep him still.

“Perfect,” Charles murmurs, unable to keep his hands still on Erik’s skin. “You’re perfect. Just like I knew you would be.”

Erik kisses him fiercely, clearly meaning to shut him up, but Charles can’t stop now, praise spilling out of his mind as Erik moves over him. _I wanted to kiss you after our first conversation—Erik, you’re so wonderful—wanted to fuck you since I knew how—thought about you all the time—couldn’t stop watching your hands during conferences—please don’t stop—you’re perfect just like this—like always—_

He doesn’t try to read Erik’s mind, just like he doesn’t try to project his own thoughts, but he hears the faint echo of Erik’s feelings, a relentless stream of heat and possessive love that leaves Charles shaking through his release.

This time the lights flicker with Erik’s orgasm, matching the stuttering of Erik’s breath against Charles’ shoulder, loud in the silence of the boat.

“Don’t say anything,” Erik growls into Charles’ neck, his voice thick and slow.

Charles shakes his head, biting back the chuckle that wants to escape his throat. “I was just wondering,” he says, spreading his hands across Erik’s back. “I was wondering if your next orgasm will short-circuit the nearest fighter.”

Erik shakes his head as he pulls away from Charles and off the bed. “I’m not a child anymore,” he says, grabbing a towel from a nearby drawer. “I won’t lose that much control.”

“Maybe we should test it out,” Charles says, rolling over and turning his face against the pillow, twisting his hips up in the air in Erik’s direction.

Everything in Erik’s mind comes to a grinding halt at the display. _After all_ , Charles whispers, _it is our honeymoon_.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Set Sail (The Mental Image Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8122933) by [afrocurl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl/pseuds/afrocurl)
  * [still sailing (set sail remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11369907) by [annejumps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps)




End file.
